My First Reunion after 47 Years
May 16–23, 1992
Hello to all of you who stayed behind in Groß Krössin!
As the saying goes: When someone goes on a journey, they will have stories to tell.
On Saturday, May 16, 1992, the time had come. At 6:30 a.m., our fully air-conditioned bus departed from Münchhagen, heading towards Pomerania.
Along the way, the bus filled with new passengers. Breaks were taken at intervals, giving us a chance to stretch our legs. I was accompanied on this trip by my two younger cousins, who had lived at the brickworks belonging to Gut Zuch, though officially part of Groß Krössin. For both of them, it was the very first journey back to the homeland of their childhood. Just a week earlier, we had laid their mother Frieda, my mother Grete’s sister, to rest in Xanten.
The mood on the bus was cheerful as we drove through a landscape already blooming and turning green; even the sun seemed to smile at us.
After many hours, we reached the Pomellen border crossing. Passport control, and then the exchange office for Zloty (1:8000) — we received stacks of banknotes that would give us plenty of amusement in the days to come.
And so we entered Pomerania. Our first stop was a city tour of Stettin, in sunshine mixed with rain showers.
Stettin is worth seeing again. Many old buildings still bear witness to the beauty of bygone years. Restoration work was underway, and the Hakenterrasse with its view of the Oder was simply lovely. Of the unsightly high-rise buildings, I prefer not to speak further. They do not belong in any city.
The journey from Stettin to Kolberg took us through our beloved Pomeranian countryside. The scent of pine forests was in the air. We Pomeranians know how to cherish this part of the Baltic Sea.
At 6 p.m. we arrived safely at our hotel, the Gryf (Griffin). The hotel was good and clean, and we were very tired.
Sunday, May 17, 1992
The long-awaited Sunday had come. Well rested, we set off at 9 a.m. toward Groß Krössin.
We were all excited, yet composed. Those of us who had not been back in Groß Krössin since our expulsion and flight in 1945 did not know what awaited us. We had read so much about the demolition and decay of our village.
From Groß Tychow we drove through Drenow, passing the Waldberg forester’s house. Here, at the forester’s lodge in Puchard, I had once been allowed to spend some time as an apprentice. A very beautiful time. Before it became the residence of forester Naseband, my Aunt Marie Gehrt, née Hackbarth, had lived there with her family. Memories came flooding back.
Then we passed our station at Villnow. Outwardly, it had not changed — still the same, familiar as ever. Through Villnow we went, and to the right of the main road lies Gut Carlshöh, where I grew up and spent my childhood in my little paradise.
And then, in the distance, we could finally make out our home village. On the left, only the Gehrt and Schulz houses still stood. On the right, the Knop property, with a large sawmill now expanded as far as Lübke’s smithy. Ehlert’s place looked familiar, opposite Scheunemann’s and others.
The house once owned by the Wetzels, where the Götsch bakery had been on the ground floor and where my parents, Edmund and Grete Hackbarth, and I had lived upstairs, was gone. It had been rebuilt — much smaller, without the bakery shop. The stables were still there, as well as the gate facing the street. A little paint would have made everything friendlier. Many houses in the village were missing, yet the village street itself was still familiar.
Our bus stopped at Sendelbach’s, where there is now a beverage shop. In the old Laude house and hall, three families live today. Laudes themselves now run a small grocery store.
The road past Kroll has been asphalted and leads toward Zuch, Gramenz, and Neustettin. A busy bus service is to be seen there.
Our church still stands, but without its tower, the bell now placed beside it on a wooden frame. A sad sight, to see this beautiful old church in such a state of decay. Supposedly, the tower had collapsed. But old photos from Gisela, taken in 1976, show a timber-frame tower emptied of its core, yet appearing stable!
Next to the school, a beautiful new gymnasium has been built, across from Ratzmer’s place. Inside the gym — a lovely parquet floor. Our group presented two brand-new soccer balls as a gift.
The left side of the mill pond had grown over. Flemming’s smithy was gone, replaced along with the cemetery by a green space, now overrun with weeds. The cemetery of the Krosino villagers, next to ours, had almost taken over the sports field. My grandmother Ida’s grave, née Venzke, was still there, marked with its wrought-iron cross. It lies directly at the entrance, just on the left side.
The old Schilling forester’s house is now a splendid building, the grounds beautifully laid out and neatly kept. At the Persante River, the bridge railing has been renewed, the old maple trees still standing. I wondered if, on warm summer evenings, there might still be the countless fireflies along the roadside ditches, just as in our youth.
At 3 p.m., the village women invited us to a coffee table in the new firehouse behind Sendelbach’s. They had baked for us and set up a festive table. Dressed in their folk costumes, they danced for us, accompanied by accordion and violin music from the Krosinos.
There was even a birthday to celebrate. Hertha, née Glaser, had been born here in Groß Krössin on a Sunday, 78 years ago. She was joyful and grateful to celebrate her special day at home. A remarkable day for Hertha in Groß Krössin.
The hours in Krössin flew by. My nerves were tense from all the impressions, and so I was relieved to return to the hotel in Kolberg.
Monday, May 18, 1992
On Monday, May 18, we drove to Köslin. Here, half a day without a set program awaited us, so we were free to stroll around the city at our leisure. A relaxed city walk was just what we needed.
And again, there was a birthday to celebrate.
Erna Venske, née Gumz, had been born 81 years ago on this very day. In the evening, at the hotel bar, she invited us all for a glass of sparkling wine. We were merry, and deeply happy to be able to share such moments together.
Tuesday, May 19, 1992
On Tuesday, we set out once more for Groß Krössin. The group divided: some wanted to go to Bad Polzin, while the rest of us chose to visit Friedrich’s fish smokehouse in Döbel. (It was from Döbel that my great-great-great-grandfather, Christoph Hackbarth, had come.)
Our bus first took us through Borntin to Döbel. In the former mill, trout are now smoked and sold.
For lunch, along the roadside on the way back toward Groß Krössin, we held a picnic — with Pomeranian butter and bread, which we had bought earlier at what was once Laude’s shop. Then followed a roughly 7-kilometer hike back to Krössin, under glorious sunshine.
Wenzel’s and Ziesemer’s houses, too, were gone.
After a short rest with lemonade, we decided to walk to the lock. The cuckoo greeted us, and we called back in return. Yet we found nothing, so we retraced the old path. Along the way, violets bloomed in abundance. We climbed over sticks, stones, and branches, laughing all the while. By evening, most of us were suffering from rather “tired feet.”
On the way, we exchanged memories and refreshed many an old story in our minds.
Wednesday, May 20, 1992
Wednesday brought yet another birthday. On the bus, Horst Wittstock treated us all to a round of mineral water, as we were on our way to Baldenburg, to visit a large Polish stud farm. Around 150 stallions are kept there; during three years of training, they are raised to the elite level, and those selected even make it to the Olympics. Truly magnificent animals.
The following drive through “Pomeranian Switzerland” was simply unforgettable — the endless storks in the fields were a wonderful sight to behold!
Afterward, we visited the Pomeranian estate once owned by the von Bismarck family, which today houses a forestry academy.
Thursday, May 21, 1992
Thursday’s journey took us to Danzig, with a short stop in Stolp along the way.
Danzig is a beautiful city, especially the Old Town, with its no fewer than seventeen churches. Our hotel there provided us with first-class meals and hospitality.
Friday, May 22, 1992
Friday was another day for sightseeing. This time, our destination was Zoppot, where we enjoyed a brief guided tour.
The final evening of our trip was celebrated about 50 kilometers away, among the Kashubians. We were warmly welcomed by a folk-dance group and treated to a delicious and abundant dinner: trout in aspic prepared in the Kashubian style, potato soup, a giant potato pancake filled with goulash, and for dessert, poppy seed cake with coffee. There was vodka, beer, and sparkling water — so everyone could indulge freely in the delicacies.
And then came our last night in Kolberg by the Baltic Sea. One more chance to breathe in that familiar homeland air.
Saturday, May 23, 1992
On Saturday morning, we began our journey back to the new homelands of the various fellow travelers. After fourteen hours on the road, we arrived safely and happily at our destinations.
If God wills it, this will not have been the last journey to our old homeland — the land of our childhood years. A piece of earth forever tied to the carefree days of our youth.
Ilse Großmann née Hackbarth (+2014)